


Malefaction

by applecup



Series: A Series Of Choices And Actions [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: AU, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Quinncident, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6915406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecup/pseuds/applecup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon-compliant AU to Fragmentation chapter 2. </p>
<p>Malavai Quinn, backed into a corner by chance and by circumstance, takes the only option available to him. Eirnhaya Illte, refusing to accept she never has a choice, does not quite see it that way. And all the while, war rages on...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malefaction

_why don't you tell me what this is really about_

So he did.

He set his gaze and steeled his tone, and she wished she hadn't said anything.

-

The worst of it all was that he didn't even _need_ to attack.

Eirnhaya had grown up in the theatre, full of dreams and ideas and ideals, the home of those who believed with all their hearts and souls that the pen would ever be mightier than the sword. For a while, she'd believed that, too - and then she'd grown up, even just a little, and watched as her mother's lightsaber shattered the resolve of rebellious students in the Adessan city square.

Here and now, though, she'd have told you that she'd been wrong to ever doubt those childish ideals - that words could cut deeper and more painfully than any knife, and that their wounds would be so much more impossible to fully heal.

He didn't love her, and that was the least of her problems. Everything they'd shared had been an act; everything she'd trusted him with, a tactical victory. She'd placed in his hands everything she had, everything she was; had whispered every secret to her worst enemy, and had drawn all her strength from rock that turned out to be illusory sand. Now he'd turned on her, as inevitably as any Sith turns on another, and she hadn't seen an inkling of it coming.

_on your knees, sith_

She could feel her legs trying to buckle, and didn't have the strength to stop them; she was shaking, as the weight of this treachery and humiliation slowly bore down on her.

And then he spoke again, and her control crumbled.

'I'm sorry it's come to this, my Lord. I truly am.'

She saw red.

-

She dragged his body back to the ship, shaking with a mixture of rage and humiliation; dropped it just inside the airlock, not bothering to check if he was even alive, and - not saying a word to her crew, who were so predictably full of worried questions - locked herself in her quarters, alone, for the second time in recent memory.

She sat in the shower, trying to scrub away that used, disgusted feeling that wouldn't stop crawling over her. Even when she turned the water as hot as it would go and resorted to clawing at her skin until it broke and bled, she did not succeed.

-

There was no way she could bring herself to sleep in her bed.

It wasn't hers - it was _theirs_ , even if _they_ had been in an awkward, unpleasant place since (she'd fucked up on Belsavis; since she'd had the sort of ruin she deserved visited on her by Sith far more powerful and worthy than she)

She stripped the bed in a fit of anger, wrestling with the covers for quilt and pillows for exactly long enough to become frustrated with them, before throwing them against the far wall and hurling angry, jagged lightning at them. No fire caught, but they did singe - so now, on top of everything else, her quarters stank of burnt feathers.

Jaesa knocked on her door. Worried. Concerned.

Eirn ignored her.

-

She didn't have to leave her quarters to get water, and couldn't face the thought of eating, so she reasoned that she could stay locked in here indefinitely; until she died of heartbreak, or she worked up the courage to kill herself, or Baras shot her out of the sky. Her parents thought she was dead anyway, and there was nobody else in the wider galaxy who gave anything remotely approaching a shit.

She lay on her side of the mattress, looking across at his; remembering the way he'd once looked back at her, her skin continuing to bleed where she'd clawed it open.

-

She couldn't do it - couldn't bring herself to open up a vein, couldn't press her saber hilt against her head (she could, and did) and light it (she tried; she shook too much, dropping it with a clatter that scared her), couldn't simply lie down and die. Stopping one's own heart, it turned out, was more troublesome than it might at first appear.

Jaesa kept on knocking at her door, and eventually the padawan discovered it had been left unlocked.

Eirn was too hurt, too terrified, too humiliated, to step outside - to face the world, and all its judgement, and letting down even that tiny sliver of defence was hard enough.

It was all she needed, though.

-

The Jedi didn't judge (that was/not what Jedi did); she brought Eirn tea and bandaged her wounds, and left her questions at the doorway, refusing to burden her Master any further than she had been already.

'What is the status of... Captain Quinn?' Eirn managed, slowly - her throat sore and her voice hoarse. She deliberately hadn't reached out with her mind; ignorance was bliss, even as she swung wildly between hoping she'd killed him and hoping she could still kill him and wishing she could wake up from this nightmare.

'He's- in a kolto tank, recovering,' Jaesa replied, carefully. 'His injuries were severe, but... he'll live, I think.'

Eirn wasn't certain how she felt about that, and just responded with a distant _Hm_.

'Master,' Jaesa added, 'What- happened?'

Another long moment passed, during which neither woman said anything.

'Captain Quinn,' Eirn replied eventually, her voice a hoarse snarl, 'works for _Baras_.'

It took Jaesa moment to process that - to work through its implications, and all that flowed from those.

'Master,' Jaesa began, 'I'm- so sorry-'

Eirn dissolved into sobs again, and they only became all the worse when Jaesa reached around and held her.

-

There was another pile, on the opposite side of the room to her treacherous quilt. Clothing, mostly - items of uniform, boots, socks, underwear. A few books. A toothbrush. Some pieces of jewellery it turned her stomach to think about ever wearing again. A datapad, its screen cracked from where she'd thrown it at the wall. A stuffed gizka. One of her scarves, still smelling faintly of his cologne. A half used bar of soap.

A series of dents and scuffs in the wall above it where the harder objects had left their marks.

Her heart.

-

'Master-'

'Please don't call me that,' Eirn managed. It was a bizarre thing to object to - now, here - but Eirn felt less and less as though she'd mastered anything other than abject failure.

'Um,' Jaesa just replied, 'Okay.'

'Is... 'Eirn' okay?' Jaesa added cautiously, after a long moment.

''Eir' is fine,' Eirn replied; trying to breathe steadily, and failing miserably. After everything Jaesa had witnessed, this little intimacy would be nothing, even if its significance was likely lost on the girl.

'...Eir,' Jaesa managed, a little awkwardly. 'I- do you want me to fetch you some fresh blankets?'

Eirn glanced around the mess she'd made of her quarters, and wished the Jedi hadn't seen them; she'd never felt an ounce of judgement from the younger woman, but that rarely made her feel much better.

She nodded, though - refusing to catch Jaesa's eye, or offer any explanation for the mess. 'Thank you, Jaesa.'

Jaesa didn't reply, though - at least not verbally, simply giving Eirn a small nod, before leaving, taking her medical supplies with her.

Eirn sighed, and closed her eyes, and found a sort of comfort in the darkness.

-

When she woke up, there were clean blankets around her - an empty packing crate at the foot of ~~their~~ her bed, and a fresh canteen of hot, sweet tea on top of the crate, along with some chocolates that Eirn suspected were from Jaesa's personal stash.

She drank the tea, and stashed the chocolate somewhere it wouldn't get caught up in further tantrums - kept aside, for a time when she felt like she could eat something and not bring it right back up.

She sat on the crate, for a while; picking at the bandages, meditating on the way her stomach roiled and her mind kept wandering to the other side of her door.

She buried her face in her hands. She cried.

-

Facing her crew - explaining this betrayal-

It was an inevitability, and one she'd dreaded since the moment she'd closed her door behind her, locking it in an attempt to shield herself from questions and judgement. She'd been played for a total fool - humiliated, once again, a would-be Sith playing games far out of her league, and paying the price for her arrogance and audacity.

She needn't, bizarrely, have worried - much.

'You've already probably guessed a lot of what I am about to say. However, in the interests of clarity, I am going to say it anyway.'

Eirn was nervous; an understatement. There was a lump in her throat that wasn't sure if it was grief or fear or nerves or anger, and it took all of her focus to keep from choking on it. Her crew weren't _stupid_. What this said about her, exactly, was not a subject she liked to dwell on.

'There was never any blockade over Corellia. The entire situation was a ruse. Captain Quinn,' she managed - her voice shaking, even now - 'has been spying for Lord Baras since he was assigned to my service. Since Lord Draagh failed to kill me over Hoth, the deed apparently fell to him.'

'I'm gunna kill him,' Pierce muttered, not missing a single beat. 'Two faced cowardly piece of bantha shit...'

' _No_ ,' she said, firmly - surprising even herself, a little. 'If anyone is to execute the Captain, it will be me.'

She'd more than earned that right; the last man who'd violated her so thoroughly had paid in blood by her own hand, and this was not a pattern she desired to break.

'We still need to go to Corellia. I can't take down Baras without support,' Eirn added, a fact she hated more and more, 'And Darth Vowrawn is too important.' She privately suspected that the Hand had their own reasons for wanting to keep Vowrawn in the picture, but had run out of energy to spare on such speculations.

'Lieutenant,' she said, glancing at Pierce, 'You and your team will be joining the assault on the Bastion, per our original agreement.'

Pierce couldn't seem to work out if he was annoyed by this order or not, but he grunted his assent all the same - even if he seemed to want nothing more than to murder Quinn himself. _All the more reason to keep him busy._

'Jaesa, Broonmark,' Eirn continued, 'You two will be accompanying me on Corellia.'

'<We destroy all foolish enough stand in the clan's path.>' Broonmark wasn't thrilled by this, either, but Eirn trusted his self-restraint even less than she trusted Pierce's \- or her own.

'Vette,' Eirn said, finally, 'You-'

'I'm babysitting Sleeping Beauty,' Vette said, sighing, 'Got it.'

Vette, for all that she complained, was the only person other than Jaesa who Eirn trusted to follow her orders regarding Quinn - at least, as long as those orders involved not murdering him. Outside of that, she wasn't certain, and didn't want to test those particular limits just yet.

'I need someone I can trust monitoring things from here,' Eirn replied flatly.

'Right,' Vette muttered - not objecting, technically.

'I don't want to waste any time. The longer the delay, the more ground Baras gains,' Eirn said, attempting not to pace nervously, and not entirely succeeding. 'If anyone has any objections to make, now would be the time. Otherwise, I would suggest you all make your preparations.'

Much as she expected, nobody objected; Pierce stalked off muttering something about weapons checks, and Broonmark muttered something inaudible in his own tongue that Eirn could only assume was directed at her absent Captain. The moment, though, was over.

'Vette,' she added, before the Twi'lek could leave, 'A word, please.'

-

The bridge was a private a place as anywhere else, given her crew's distractions, and Eirn wasn't ready for anyone (else) to see the mess her quarters had devolved into. 

'What's up, boss?' Vette was every inch as unpretentious as Eirn needed her to be - direct, honest, refreshing.

'Vette,' Eirn replied, after a long moment - aware even as she said it that the Twi'lek was probably going to object, 'you still have that slave collar.'

A statement, not a question; she'd overheard Vette and Jaesa having a far too casual conversation about Vette's brushes with enslavement, and filed the information away for future use. She'd been surprised, at the time - still was, in truth. She'd given Vette the collar as a peace offering - a gesture of trust that the Twi'lek had returned ten-thousand-fold in the time since - and had half expected her to melt it down for scrap, a symbolic strike against Imperial slavery or her servitude on Korriban - or both. Instead, it had been tucked away amongst Vette's few personal belongings, a memento of a darker time.

'I- yeah,' Vette replied cautiously. 'Let me guess,' she added, 'You want it for Captain Fuckhead.'

The name made Eirn chuckle unpleasantly. Vette had long disliked Quinn; he was not as bluntly xenophobic as some Imperials, but he'd always been uneasy around non-humans. Add in the fact that Vette thumbed her nose at Imperial authority, and _particularly_ military authority, and the pair had a somewhat antagonistic relationship. Eirn imagined that a part of Vette relished finally being able hate him with Eirn's blessing - even as she knew that the girl would rather that her paranoia had been for nothing.

(Eirn had sometimes wondered, when their romance had been young, if he was attracted to her in _spite_ of her clearly non human appearance, or if the impurities in her bloodline - her hair, her stunted tendrils, her almost smooth brows - simply made her more palatable to him. Now, she wondered if he'd ever been attracted to her at all, or if he'd simply closed his eyes and thought of a human woman instead)

'If- it becomes necessary,' Eirn managed - attempting to pick her words carefully. She'd rather have kept Quinn out of the picture until Baras had been dealt with - and if Corellia went smoothly then perhaps she'd look into strong-arming a carbonite freezer from someone, but she also knew that it was best to keep as many options open as possible.

'..Okay,' Vette replied, a little reluctantly. 'Um,' she added, 'Eir? Are... you okay?'

A silly question, but Eirn loved Vette for asking it anyway. The Twi'lek's face and tone had concern written all the way through it - genuine concern, for a friend (for a sister, of a sort). 

'No,' Eirn admitted, after a long moment. It hurt just to admit that to herself, never mind to another person - and was aware, acutely, that there was no guarantee that all of Baras's tracking and listening devices had been purged. 'But I'm alive,' she added, 'And soon enough, Baras won't be.' And that was all she had to say to that.

Vette didn't have much of a reply to that, other than an awkward, 'Well, uh. That's good. Sort of,' she said, shrugging a little awkwardly.

'One other thing, Vette.'

'Hm?' Vette clearly wanted to go - Eirn didn't blame her, and rather wanted this conversation to be over, herself - but this was important.

'I want you to hold onto the collar remote.' Eirn didn't trust herself with that power, even as she needed it; she knew that given half a chance she'd have set its voltage as high as wouldn't kill him and simply listened to him scream, and while that in itself was not an option other Sith would have refused... she was not other Sith, nor did she desire to be.

Vette studied her for a long moment - trying to puzzle her out, before nodding, warily. 'You're the boss.'

Eirn acknowledged her with a small nod; Vette left, and Eirn slumped into the captain's chair, suddenly exhausted.

-

Corellia was one long clusterfuck - none of which came as any surprise to Eirn. It was a warzone, and while she was grateful for the cover that the war gave her, it also failed entirely to make her tasks here any easier. That Baras was more interested in his own power plays than winning the war with the Republic came as no surprise, either, though it didn't fill Eirn with confidence about the Empire's chances - either here, or in the galaxy at large. 

All the more reason, she supposed, to put a stop to his madness - and soon.

-

'Vette. You have an update for me?.'

The holo didn't give _much_ detail, but Eirn could still see the face the Twi'lek was pulling. 'Captain Dumbass woke up. All the fancy tools in the medbay say he's healthy...ish. He won't talk to me, but, you know. That's pretty normal.'

Eirn swallowed hard at that news - sighed, and bit back her first response. It was inevitable, but that didn't mean she had to like it. 'Where is he now?'

'Still in the medbay,' Vette replied, shrugging. 'I figured since we don't have a brig, closest thing is restrained in there.'

Eirn nodded thoughtfully, at that. 'Good. Keep a close watch on the perimeter. I'm sending Darth Vowrawn and his attaché to the ship; Baras has already made one attempt on him, and I'd rather have him in a defensible location.'

'You're sending him _here_?' Vette replied, full of disbelief. 'What am I supposed to do if an assassin shows up, get the droid to make him tea?!'

'Don't forget that you have Captain Quinn on board as well, Vette.'

'Eir, are you insane? Giving Admiral Backstabber a gun-?'

'You still have the collar,' Eirn retorted, not missing a beat, 'And I trust your discretion with its use. Until Lieutenant Pierce is able to return, you will have to make do with who's available.'

Vette didn't like it \- she pouted and scowled and sighed, defeated. 'Okay, you're the boss.'

'I'm glad you understand,' Eirn replied - smiling joylessly, just a little. 'Thank you, Vette,' she added - and meant it.

'Yeah, yeah,' Vette muttered, cutting the connection. 

-

Vowrawn seemed to find Baras making attempts on his life to be highly entertaining; the elderly Sith apparently enjoyed the adrenaline rush, and Eirn found it reaffirmed once more that she had _no_ ambitions to sit on the Dark Council. It annoyed her that Vowrawn had insisted on relocating to his own safe house - _his_ territory, not hers \- but it was, in the grand scheme of things, a rather mild annoyance.

'It's just unfortunate I wasn't there,' she mused, only half responding to Vowrawn's speculations on Baras's assassins. 

'Now, my dear. I was in perfectly capable hands,' Vowrawn replied, all charm and sickly gratitude. 'Your Captain in particular should be commended,' he added, glancing across at the disgraced officer in question. 'He took on the assailant with no mortal concern.'

Quinn stood awkwardly at attention, refusing to meet her eye; he'd at least had the presence of mind to tidy himself up, but Vette's shock collar was clearly visible underneath the collar of his uniform. Eirn had decided quite some time ago she didn't really care what conclusions Vowrawn had drawn from this, lewd or otherwise; she needed his assistance in dealing with Baras, but that didn't make her beholden to his judgements on her crew.

'I am making up for an past indiscretion . My commitment to my lord is unassailable.' His voice was scratchy and raw, and she resented him deeply for it.

Eirn just threw him the filthiest look she could muster, and didn't even give him credit for the way he failed to flinch.

'Nobody gave you permission to speak, Captain,' she spat - instantly regretting her tone, if only for the information it gave Vowrawn, before deciding that she continued not to care.

Quinn made an apologetic half bow, but at least had the good sense to remain silent; Vowrawn chuckled to himself, though at what, Eirn could only speculate.

'You ride your people hard, Lord Illte,' Vowrawn mused, glancing over her crew. 'Though I can't say I disagree with the results. But we should turn our attention to the task at hand...'

-

When Draahg declared his immortality, Eirnhaya laughed - loudly, and unpleasantly. Whatever he'd been before, he was no longer; their last encounter had maimed and blinded him, and his cybernetics made him appear _less_ intimidating, not more. The last time they'd faced each other, Eirn had been furious, and panicking - Draahg had already overpowered her crew, and then turned the full focus of his attentions onto _her_ , and she'd still been the one who'd walked away.

This time, she had her wits about her - sort of - and when he'd collapsed beneath her blade, she'd yanked his augmentations from his body with the Force, extracting one last horrific scream from him as he died. The cybernetics were crushed into an ugly, smoking ball, hurled into the far wall of Baras's little hideaway; Vowrawn, when he'd recovered, had looked her up and down the way one assesses any future threat.

'You embody the station _Wrath_ well, Lord Illte. Baras will barely know what hit him.'

'Being _hit_ will be the least of Baras's problems, Dark Lord,' she replied, tartly.

-

On returning to her ship - to her private quarters, in desperate need of silence and solitude - it was to an entirely unexpected sight.

Someone had been inside - it wasn't difficult to guess who. The crate that Jaesa had left her was gone, along with its contents; moved to the cargo bay, presumably, though she didn't question it for now. The ruined bedsheets were also gone, as was the nest she'd slept in, recently - her bed freshly made up, with soft, clean sheets and freshly plumped pillows - placed rather pointedly at the centre of its head, a luxurious bed made for one.

A more comfortable, endlessly less heartbreaking homecoming than she had anticipated - or could have planned herself. Vette, for all the feigned exasperation that existed between them, was more than worth her weight in gold.

She sat on the edge of her bed, placing her hands on its sheets and wondering what she'd done to deserve such devotion.

She buried her face in her hands. She cried.

-

Whatever plans she'd had to deal with Quinn after handling Baras went out of the window during the journey to Korriban.

She'd realised when still on Corellia that she'd need her full focus when bringing her wrath to bear on Baras; she couldn't afford distractions and regrets and things left unsaid, and that included the wretch last seen sitting on his own in the cargo hold, parked on a packing crate full of (mostly) his belongings, wallowing in self-pity as though he had any right to feel it.

He was still there, when she finally worked up the nerve to confront him; Jaesa standing guard, as though she could fight off a suitably determined Taalz or Imperial black ops soldier with mere gumption and a stern look (and Eirn would not have put it past the girl to try). Eirn left Jaesa at her self-appointed post, though; she had nothing left to fear from Quinn, other than perhaps the truth, and he had everything to concern himself about from her.

She didn't say anything, though - couldn't find the words to, not now that she stood in front of him again. The more she tried, the more they refused to come - and when it was _Quinn_ who broke that unbearable silence, she was as much relieved as she was infuriated with him for it.

'I had no choice,' he whispered, his voice still hoarse - his gaze locked onto the floor, refusing to look up at her. 'I didn't-'

' _Bullshit_ ,' Eirn hissed, flexing her fingers - holding back the power that suddenly wanted to lash out at him. Throwing lightning had never come particularly naturally to her - but of late, she'd found it easier than she ever had, and it was a power that _wanted_ to be used.

'You had a choice,' she added, 'And you made it. Whether you think I'm stupid,' she said, 'or incompetent, or spineless..' she trailed off, realising she'd begun to pace in short, tight circles as her rage and frustration bubbled up. 'It doesn't really matter which insult you go with, really. You chose the man who already tried to kill you several times over the woman you've just spent several years _lying_ to,' she finished, ignoring the way he winced as she spat those last few words.

'You don't understand,' he managed - murmured, the words tripping over each other. 'My service to Lord Baras...'

'Malavai,' she said, squatting close to him - not forcing him to look at her, but imposing on his personal space all the same, 'Let me explain something to you. You are _nothing_ to Baras. Less than nothing. You're not even a pawn, you're the acceptable collateral damage suffered when he tries to stop a pawn from queening.'

She paused, letting that sink in - disliking describing herself as a pawn, despite its truth. 'You were everything to me, Malavai. You could have been my king,' she said, 'and instead... I am having a _really_ difficult time not throwing you out of my airlock.'

She let that statement hang in the air; half a threat, and half a statement of bald fact. She'd thought about it, several times - any conviction she'd attempted to muster in the action evaporating in the face of such a thing's finality, though that was a truth she kept to herself.

'If that's the case, my lord,' he replied, eventually - still not looking at her, his tone as even as he could make it, and entirely deferential, 'Then why am I still here?'

'Because I need to know,' she said - half whispered, not wanting to admit this pathetic need even to herself, never mind _him_. 'Before I kill him, how much of it was real.'

He looked up at her, trying to puzzle her out - trying to work out what she meant and what she wanted.

'How much,' he repeated, slowly, 'Of- what?'

'Of everything,' she replied, holding his gaze until he winced and looked away.

He closed his eyes, for a long moment; attempted to steady his breath, and failed entirely, gripping the edge of the crate he'd sat himself on as though he were in danger of falling into the void. 

And then, after a long, unpleasant moment, he began to speak.

-

'When I was... _released_ from Lord Baras's service - when I requested to join your crew, I- that was real. I swear. I wanted- you were-' he started, floundering for the right words.

'Even on Balmorra, I could tell you were... unlike any other Sith. You could do great things for the Empire, and... I wanted to be there. And,' he added, a little embarrassed, 'I was... infatuated, even then. You probably think it childish, but it's the truth.'

Eirn remained silent, as he spoke; shifted her position to sit on a crate across from his, a far more comfortable pose than her squat, but otherwise did nothing.

'I suspect that Lord Baras would have manoeuvred me onto your crew regardless. During your next mission, he contacted me privately, requesting that I... report on your activities. It was.. not a request I could refuse,' he said, slowly. 

'So you admit that you were his spy.' At least, Eirn reflected, he'd admitted it of his own volition - even if he'd done so far too late.

'I- yes,' he replied, starting to protest and then immediately deflating. 'I suppose I was. He wanted to know... what transpired during your missions. Your conduct, your combat prowess, your... you.'

'And the crew?' Eirn prompted, cautiously.

'To a lesser extent,' he replied, 'With... the exception of Miss Wilsaam. I suspect he believed that she - or you - were sympathetic to the Jedi.'

A ridiculous accusation - or at least, half a ridiculous accusation. Eirn knew that Jaesa's relationship with her former Order was... complicated, which was why she'd never forced the girl to work against them against her will. A pattern that Baras was apparently likely aware of, but that was the least of Eirn's problems.

'And... us?' she added, prompting him again - even more cautiously than before.

Quinn took a long time to reply to that one; avoided her gaze, looking at the floor as he tried to find the courage - and the words.

'He- warned me not to become _emotionally compromised_ ,' Quinn replied slowly, the words apparently distasteful in his mouth. 'I realised- even then, what would- probably happen,' he confessed - he wasn't stupid, after all. Far from it. 'Even if I didn't want to admit it. I was- conflicted,' he added, 'and not simply because of- military rules,' he finished, awkwardly - mulling over how to continue.

'Part of me was afraid,' he added, 'that if he felt I was- _compromised_ , then I would be reassigned elsewhere. I never fabricated anything in my reports, but there certain aspects of some missions I left... unexamined.'

'You lied to him?' Eirn had to admit that came as a surprise; that Quinn had the gall to lie to Baras, or that Baras hadn't seen right through it.

'I- lies of omission,' Quinn confessed, even as he winced at the accusation. 'Small things. Irrelevant to what he required me to report on. At first,' he added, 'Anyway.'

'He found out,' he added, after a long moment, 'of course. It was stupid of me to hope he wouldn't. But I never shared anything we said, or- _did_ in confidence,' he stammered, flushing awkwardly and inappropriately.

Eirn felt a mixture of shame and mild relief, at that; the thought that Quinn had kept the ways in which she fell short of Sith ideals in private to himself, the fact she fell so far short at all. 

He looked back up at her at that, though - searched her expression for something, before finally continuing. 'But- 'us'? That was real, Eihn, I swear. I loved you. I still love you. After Quesh, after he- when I woke up and you were there...'

Nothing had mattered to her - not the Hand and their vague offer, which she'd nearly failed to take up in time - not Baras or Draahg, who were light years away - just Malavai Quinn, her beloved, stupid Captain who'd put himself between her and half a ton of rock without a second thought.

'Nothing else mattered, after that,' he added, faintly. 'Certainly not the man who'd just tried to have us killed.'

Eirn studied him for a long moment; was silent, for a long moment, before finally speaking.

'So what changed?'

Quinn said nothing for another long, silent moment - before looking away, again. 'Belsavis.'

The planet's name made Eirn's stomach clench; she hadn't forgotten what had transpired there (doubted she ever would, in truth) - but she didn't say anything, not yet. Quinn couldn't have known what happened - _Baras_ couldn't have known, the only other person there had been Jaesa, and-

'When you struck down Darth Ekkage,' Quinn said, slowly, 'Baras... felt it, I suppose. He contacted me privately, demanded to know what was going on and why I hadn't reported in that you were still alive. I...' he added, trailing off -closing his eyes, and taking a long, deep breath.

'When I couldn't give him a satisfactory answer,' he continued, 'He- half choked me, across the comm. He ranted. I was alone on the ship, I couldn't-' he paused again, swallowing hard.

'You're the reason Draahg knew we were on Hoth.' Eirn made another flat statement, and watched as Quinn winced.

'I knew- I thought I knew that you could beat him. Easily. I didn't expect him to attack the crew, as well. I tried to tell myself he had to- make it seem convincing...' Quinn trailed off, clearly unconvinced. 'After you- had dealt with him, I was- contacted again by Baras. That's when he- made his final instructions.' Quinn finished, swallowing hard - and falling entirely silent.

They sat like that for several long moments - in a guilty, deathly silence, broken only by the faint hum of the ship's engines.

'I didn't want to,' he whispered, 'but I didn't- I couldn't-'

He paused, at that - closed his eyes, again, forcing a long, deep breath. 'I knew that I couldn't fight you. I couldn't stand the thought of- but I- It had to look convincing, or- I still have family, on Kaas...'

_Baras threatened him,_ she realised, _and when that didn't seem to be working any more, threatened those he cared about_. 

'Malavai,' she replied, slowly, 'My parents have thought me dead for the past year, and if it wasn't for the protection Thanaton affords them, I'd have put them into hiding myself. Jaesa's parents, Vette's sister... they're under the protection of my allies. Allies you _know_ I have. If you'd _said_ something...' she trailed off, frustrated and despairing all at once.

'I tried!' he protested, looking at her - his expression a mixture of desperate and terrified. 'I tried,' he repeated, 'but you were- distant, avoiding me, I thought that- you'd worked out what was going on, that you thought I was on _his_ side, or...' he trailed off, deflating again. 'Saying it like that sounds ridiculous now, I know...'

'Malavai,' she said, 'Look at me.'

He did, and she felt sick; a mixture of nerves and guilt, over this and over all else that had transpired.

'I didn't... know what was going on.,' Eirn said, slowly. 'I knew _something_ was wrong, but- I never thought it would be _this_.'

She paused herself, at that - sighed, and tried to steady herself. 'When we were on Belsavis, after- dealing with Darth Ekkage,' she managed, swallowing back her faint nausea, 'Jaesa and I, we- did our part in securing the release of the Dread Masters.'

She felt sick and dizzy at the memory - even more so, on top of all of this. She felt she owed him some kind of explanation, though - even if it wouldn't change anything.

'Eihn,' he murmured, 'what...?'

'I fucked up,' she replied, eventually. 'They... took offense to something I said. And punished me for it...'

Her nights were still broken, even now; this hadn't helped, had worn its own toll on her sanity, but her fears and memories of fears still lingered, just below the surface - bubbling up right when she needed them least to.

'I- didn't know,' he started, babbling, 'I- Eihn....'

She said nothing, in response - at least, not for a long, unpleasant moment. 'Maybe I shouldn't have- pushed you so far away,' she murmured, 'but I didn't- I couldn't- couldn't _sleep_ , never mind think. All those- visions on Voss just made it worse,' she managed, 'I just couldn't...'

It was her turn to babble guiltily - to close her eyes and try to steady herself; to fail miserably, and to be slowly brought back to reality by the feeling of him nervously taking one of her hands in his. When she opened her eyes again, looking at him, he flinched - almost dropped her hand, until she closed it around his, returning the gesture - accepting it, in her own way.

She didn't even know who kissed who - but she returned it and so did he, awkwardly and messily and needily, love and guilt and loneliness rolling around both of them - her hands working their way through his scalp, him running one hand through her hair and looping the other around her waist, pulling her closer. She was almost on his lap, when they pulled apart; there were tears running down her face, and she felt ridiculous until she looked at him and saw that he was crying, too.

'Eihn,' he murmured, after a long moment, 'I- I know,' he said, 'that I- screwed up. A lot. I don't deserve your mercy,' he added, 'or forgiveness, or- trust,' he said, wincing a little at that word. 'But if you can find it within you to allow me another chance, I will do everything in my power to earn it. I swear.'

She cupped his jaw with one hand, at that; wiped away some of his tears with her thumb, studying him all the while. He was desperate, and lonely, and loved her; she could feel his need and nervousness, flitting just beneath his surface. Jaesa could have told her how much of it was true, but as much as Eirn trusted her Jedi (and what a ridiculous sentiment that was for any Sith to nurse), this was far too personal a confrontation for her to be present.

'I love you,' she said, slowly, 'Malavai Quinn. But...' she added - feeling hope flare inside of him, and then wither just as quickly, 'nothing can undo what's been done. You of all people should know that.'

'I know,' he said, looking away, 'I do. I wish I could change things, but... I can't. All I can do is swear that I am yours. If not as your king,' he murmured, wincing at her clumsy, pointed analogy, 'then as your most loyal pawn.'

'Perhaps,' she replied, after a long moment. 'I don't know,' she added, hesitantly - about to add something further to that thought when she felt the ship drop out of hyperspace; heard the engines shift as they entered normal space, and she realised that they'd almost reached their destination.

At the very least, she no longer wanted to throw him out of her airlock; she could face Baras knowing the truth of all that had transpired, with her head clear and her heart... aching, and bruised, and vulnerable, but perhaps not quite the shattered thing her former Master anticipated.

_Attention all hands, this is your pilot speaking._

Vette had been left with the bridge, and took that moment to interrupt her thoughts - abusing intercom privileges in a way she hadn't had opportunity to since Balmorra.

_We are now approaching Korriban, a-k-a creepiest dustbucket in Imp space, and that's saying something. Passengers are advised to turn around and leave before it's too late. Local weather is grr with a chance of stabbing..._

Eirnhaya couldn't help it - she laughed at that, dissolving into tearful giggles at Vette's commentary on the Sith homeworld. Malavai didn't feel the same way - she didn't need the Force to feel his disapproval of the Twi'lek's disrespect, or his irritation at her amusement. For a moment - just a moment - the universe felt in balance.

They could never go back.

But perhaps they could now go forward.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a challenge to myself to work out Eirn's reaction to a Quinncident that still complies (mostly) with game canon. It was never intended to be any more than a worddoodle but somehow it ballooned into a whole fic of its own... and I actually think it turned out rather well.


End file.
